Hoy you remind me
by LadyInBlack1
Summary: Hermione becomes a Death Eater......bad summary.....HG/DM tho.
1. Default Chapter

How you remind me  
  
Chapter 1  
  
It was nearly a year since Hermione finished her last year at Hogwarts. she had graduated with the highest grades, even higher than Percy Weasley's.  
  
The end of year celebration had been amazing, but Hermione didn't enjoy it. She actually didn't enjoy anything since her fifth year.  
  
Her lifetime friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, had inevitably fallen in the marvellous world of girls and dates, and totally forgot about their loyal friend. 'I should've known I'd en up as I started. Alone'. She thought sometimes.  
  
Yeah they still talked to her, for school favours mainly, they didn't hang out with her anymore and she was never included in their plans anymore.  
  
There'd be more important things to do for them , a trip to Hogsmeade with a bunch of giggly girls, a cozy dinner with some starry eyed ditz, or even better, a visit to the prefects bathroom with a bunch of hot students waiting for them.  
  
Where did that leave her? Alone in the library at night, re-reading now useless essays during breakfast, lunch and dinner, while her 'friends' became more and more popular. Studying in the astronomy deck at midnight, or just crying in the girl's bathrooms, with no other company than moaning myrtle who wouldn't help by making fun of her and encouraging her to join the ghost girl in the other life.  
  
There was when she started skipping classes. Everyone called it something normal in Hermione's case, every wizard had his bad week once in their life.  
  
Nobody cared if she hid herself in bed all day, she even got to lost eleven pounds in a week, when she refused to come out of her bedroom. Everyone called it 'a part of puberty''. Hermione called it an attempt to suicide.  
  
After a month or two Harry and Ron were persuaded by McGonnagal to try and talk to her, they did as told but got nothing except a 'leave me alone' and 'stay out of my business' as a response.  
  
Eventually she started to act normal but inside she was wondering if it was still worth living.  
  
You could see her hanging out with two or three people, helping lower students with their homework and projects, nobody would ever know she was planning to put an end to her life.  
  
Her decision was finally taken that night, a year after she realized that life had nothing to offer her.  
  
She was lying on bed in her room, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how everybody else's' lives would be without her.  
  
There wouldn't be many changes. For the better probably. Her parents got divorced a few years ago and his father barely talked to her. Her mother would be more than glad to have a mouth less to feed, a child less to take care off.  
  
As for Harry and Ron, well, they would for a moment feel sorry about her and of course, the moment would pass and they would go back to their giggly girlfriends.  
  
And as for her. Well it didn't even mattered now, she didn't cared, all she wanted was to end this conferment and return the package.  
  
At 10:42 Hermione stood up from bed and walked towards the bathroom across the room. Her mother was out with some guy she met at work and there was nobody else in the house, except for Crookshanks and herself.  
  
Her mother would get rid of the cat once she found out that her daughter was dead, she had never liked cats very much and Crookshanks always gave her the creeps.  
  
Hermione locked the door of the bathroom, and looked herself in the mirror.  
  
Her face was pale and bony, she had black circles under her eyes, those eyes, that had been worn out after many nights of crying and studying.  
  
Her hair had lost its wilderness. It wasn't as brown as it used to be and it had lost its pretty glimmer.  
  
The silver blade shone with the light of the moon that peered from the window and Hermione took it in her hands carefully, examining it with deep reverence.  
  
It was simply prefect, and so easy. She wouldn't have to feel anything else., nobody would hurt her anymore, and she was useless, Lonely Clever Useless Girl, she was. Nobody would miss her.  
  
Hermione pulled back the sleeve of her shirt. There would be no turning back now. Everything would be over in a few minutes. No good byes for anyone, no crying over years of study thrown away.  
  
Closing her eyes, and drawing in a deep breath. Hermione pressed the cold blade against her bare skin and slashed a deep cut across her right wrist. The veins tore open and she opened her eyes to see the blood running down her arm and soaking her shirt. It didn't even hurt, her mind cried. Once again, she took the blade with the other hand and slashed her left wrist, gasping as the blood came out like rivers and fell to the floor, there was now a crimson lake in the white floor of the bathroom and she looked at it with terror. It was her blood, she was spilling her precious life.  
  
A sudden wave of panic ran down her spine and she gasped again. Stabbing, delicious pain swept over her body. Her mind began racing and her heart pounded faster, Hermione took a few steps back and watched how the blood fell to the floor and her senses began to fail,  
  
In her last minute, Hermione started regretting what she had done but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Her breathing quickened but she couldn't get much air in her lungs, her vision became foggy, and her head ached a lot.  
  
With a final breath, Hermione closed her eyes and let herself fall unconsciously to the blood-wet floor of the bathroom.  
  
A single tear trickled down her cheek. 


	2. Chapter 2

How you remind me  
  
Chapter 2  
  
I am a death eater. Is no hard confession to make, everyone expected me to be so.  
  
I like to kill, I was born to be like this, this is my future, and I already gave myself to it.  
  
My first experience was when I was fifteen years old. I had just returned from school for the summer, mother and father weren't at home and I was alone dealing with my anger.  
  
Once again, that ass-kisser Golden Boy Harry Potter, was everyone's favourite, the best in Quidditch, the one with the teachers at his feet, the one that escaped from my master once again.  
  
I was pissed, I had been thinking in my room when she came, and I knew I was ready for it, She had been nosy and I suspected she was passing information to some wizards of the ministry. Father knew about his, but he said that he would give her a good punishment soon. Though soon was a little too long.  
  
I hated her, she was an obstacle for my master's plans, I needed to push her out of my way.  
  
Deloris was her name, she was very young, our youngest maid I guess. Right now she would be around 21, she was almost my age.  
  
Come here, I said, Let young master Draco talk to you, yes, yes come closer, I wont hurt you, (well maybe I will) There... it wasn't that bad was...oops! Im sorry, did that hurt?. Deloris? Deloris?  
  
Father knew it had been me, he didn't say a word about it but I knew it was one of the few times that he had been proud at me. I guess he expected me to do it.  
  
I was proud too. Though, my first experience in murdering was in my early teens, I knew how to handle it, Because, you know? Im a Malfoy and Malfoys are the most ice-hearted people in the world, but I guess you already knew that.  
  
I hate my father. When I was young, I had sworn to myself that I would never become like him, and watch me now! I AM him.  
  
Lucius took everything I loved. A few years ago, he and Mother had a major discussion. About me. Probably mother still had some human heart left and she didn't wanted me to become one more with my Master. He also killed her. And now im alone. There's no one else who would give their life for me, and if there were, I doubt they'd do it now.  
  
I don't like what I've became. But its my future and im willing to accept it.  
  
I am nineteen years old now and I know everything about the world that surrounds me. I know how wizards and muggles act, how they live, how they kill... I've become rather an expert in the art you know?  
  
I was seventeen and a half years old when I became a death eater, I wasn't even sure I wanted to be one. I was stupid, always bossing around bullying everyone for being who I was, I goddamn death eater I should have known there was nothing to be proud of!. I never knew what it was for real.  
  
I was arrogant and ambitious when I first started. Master said I wouldn't be strong enough for this and he wanted to kill me, but I proved them I worked hard and now im one of his most valuable supporters.  
  
Lord Voldemort doesn't forgive mistakes, not anymore at least. Many fellows death eaters had died on his own hands, and we're less every time, I've came to realize that the Dark Lord needs new supporters, I know a few people who would really love to join the dark lord, but that wouldn't still be enough. Most of them are stupid, weak and brainless gits, that would just be as a temporal support.  
  
The truth is, as everyone knows, that people are scared to go back to the dark side because they're afraid to get caught. Bullshit. They know that Master is even stronger than before, they wont come back because they know he'll have their heads. Sooner or later he will, anyways.  
  
Im growing impatient. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Hermione woke up with a start, a burning sensation was beginning to take over her as she opened her eyes, she was standing in front of a large mirror, she could see herself looking at her own eyes, tears running down her cheeks, and her lips pressed in an attempt not to scream, she glanced at her left hand and saw the white sleeve of her shirt covered in a crimson liquid, the other holding a silver dagger covered in blood.  
  
Coming back to reality, Hermione looked at herself and noticed the long gash across her left palm, blood, was still running, but the wound was almost dried a huge dark scab was beginning to form, though the flesh still open, red muscles showing off in midair.  
  
Her head began racing. She wasn't dead, she didn't even cut in the right place! Annoyed and dizzy by the sight of the wound, she looked at the other arm and saw that it had been untouched. Damn, she cursed to herself, now she was daydreaming about the most important thing, which she didn't even got right.  
  
But she felt relieved.  
  
Hermione cleaned the silver dagger and shoved it into her pocket, then proceeded to clean her wound, splashing and staining the large mirror with red drops. After everything was all cleaned up, she walked out of the bathroom, cursing again silently but not daring to going back and finish the task at hand.  
  
It was already late at night and her mother hadn't gotten back from her date. Pity, Hermione though, that morning would be the last time she'd seen her. The young woman was taking some clothes from her drawers and shoving them into a small bag, she took a few personal things and grabbed her magic wand from the bureau.  
  
Hermione apparated in the kitchen and took a piece of paper from the counter and a pen to scribble a note for her mother.  
  
Mum:  
  
Im leaving, im not telling you where or why but I really don't think you would care. Im sorry if ever caused you problems but I think this will be better for both of us.  
  
Don't bother looking for me, I wont come back  
  
Have a nice life.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Hermione posted the small note on the fridge and headed to the front door. Taking a last glimpse of the small, comfy but always loveless house she opened the door and disappeared in the darkness of the streets.  
  
The streets of the muggle world were silent and not a soul could be seen. Where would she go now? Stay in the muggle world and live like a hermit? No, she wouldn't waste all she learned like that. So what then? Go look for a job at the ministry? That was the last she wanted, everybody she knew was there and it was for sure that she wouldn't want to see them again.  
  
No, right now wasn't a time to think, her feet were sore and she needed to rest. The closest Muggle motel was across the street so she decided to take a little break before starting everything the next morning.  
  
The receptionist was a dark short-haired girl with black clothing pale skin, skull collars and spike bracelets. Hermione cleared her throat and the girl looked up at her, she had black lipstick and had black rings around her eyes, not exactly because of sleeplessness.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped and looked at Hermione with an annoying look on her face. Oh yeah? Well, she could play that game too.  
  
"Easy there, you don't want to be picking up your head across the street, now do you?" Hermione shoot back in the exact same tome causing the girl to glare at her, well, she deserved it, "I need a room, only tonight, Can you do that or your brain is too small to register my words?"  
  
Hermione 1 , Little bitch 0  
  
The girl stopped glaring and looked on the papers, then she mumbled for her name and giving her a fake name, the little wench handed her the keys of the room.  
  
"See? Wasn't that bad after all , was it?" Hermione began walking to her room, but the girl interrupted her. "Nice comeback, have a nice stay" she said surprise, anger and a bit of respect mixed within her words. Hermione smiled disappearing down the hall.  
  
Night passed quite fast and the next morning Hermione was struggling to get dressed and sat down on the bed to think a bit.  
  
Where would she go now? That question had been bothering her since last night and even thought she didn't wanted to answer it right away the question wouldn't go away.  
  
Hermione stood up from the bed and out of the room, people coming out of nearby rooms and the annoying sound of cars waiting outside was her morning greet. She managed to struggle between the mass of people around the counter and the receptionist flashed her a small grin before she left.  
  
Once outside she headed to the muggle bank where she had a small count, especially made for her studies, and emptied it. She closed her count and made sure that her name disappeared from the clients list.  
  
An hour or so later, she was once again walking down the streets with the small bag and a useless stick buried under a clean shirt and her silver dagger.  
  
Without even realising, she was standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron, the door to the Magic world, the main cause of her problems.  
  
Quickly not wanting to draw any attention, she walked into the small pub and making sure that nobody recognized her she asked for a room, Tom, the owner of the tavern died a year or so ago and his grandson was the one who owned it now.  
  
Finally in the warm room, Hermione threw her bag to the floor and walked to the window that showed Diagon Alley, the noisy Wizarding world before her eyes was the enemy now, the people she had once known was now deep buried within her memories and all she felt for them now was pure hatred.  
  
She wanted them dead.  
  
Hermione walked to the small bathroom and looked herself in the mirror, Her once warm hazel eyes were cold and had lost its vibrant light, her hair, no longer bushy fell way down below her shoulders. One thing she hated about her old self was her hair, always messy and long, it hadn't changed very much with the time, but It had grown a lot during the last couple of years.  
  
Her faithful wand was now at the edge of the sink , Hermione took it and pointed at her head. Not for another attempt of suicide, but to finish with the remains of the person she had hated most.  
  
Hermione muttered the simple spell, and her once long hair was now short and straight, it now fell over her shoulders and it looked, well, different. Leaving the wand on the sink again, she muttered a few words and closed her eyes, when she opened them again, she noticed a pair of deep blue eyes peering at her.  
  
Satisfied, Hermione looked herself once more in the mirror, there was no big difference, but it WAS a difference.  
  
Grinning she left the bathroom and went to sit by the window, that led to the wizarding world. Which would be the best way to hurt the people that had once treated her like a big nothing? How could she tear them all apart? How could she ever destroy them?  
  
Kill them?  
  
She knew the answer, oh lord! Of course she knew it! She had been thinking about it ever since she had left her house the last night.  
  
But it wouldn't be easy.  
  
But it was all part of it? Hell, why she was called the most intelligent witch of her generation if she couldn't get what she wanted.  
  
And if she wanted this, why would it be hard?  
  
This was going to be fun. A/N: thanks to my first reviewer, I know it doesn't sounds so angsty right now, but it'll get so, eventually. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Enjoy.  
  
Draco Malfoy leaned back against the seat of the old muggle taxi and told the driver where to drop him.  
  
"That'd be $5.70, son." The driver said bringing Draco back from his thoughts. The young man gave him the muggle money and hopped off of the muggle taxi.  
  
Draco crossed the door of the invisible pub and looked around him; The people on the bar stopped their chatting to look at him as he made his way towards the main counter.  
  
Tom's godson, Mike, had always been intimidated by a special kind of people, he had heard that the Malfoys were a dark family and had seen Draco around a few times, but he never imagined the kind of things Draco usually did when he was out of the sight of the Ministry.  
  
When the tall man stepped in front of him, Mike felt shivers run down his spine, and wondered if the young Malfoy, really worked against the dark arts.  
  
"I need a room." Draco said taking out a couple of galleons, "Just for the night."  
  
Mike handed him a small silver key and Draco put his change back into his robes, "Have a nice stay, Mr. Malfoy." He murmured when Draco disappeared upstairs.  
  
******  
  
Draco leaned back in his chair and tapped his long, slender fingers over the wooden desk in front of him. A tall blond-haired man sitting across from him looked at him though ice-cold deep blue eyes.  
  
"So" he started in his usual whispering tone, "Another one's down, eh?"  
  
Draco chuckled slightly, "It was about time, Whether the Dark Lord hadn't done it by now, I would have done it myself."  
  
"Poor Crabbe; I heard he had a three year old" the man said, though there was no trace of pity in his voice.  
  
Draco shrugged "Probably killed by now. Along with the mother I suppose"  
  
"No more Crabbes to fuck up the world"  
  
"We're here for that" Draco added earning a laugh from his companion who just lit a cigarette; it's dim fire the only thing lighting the room besides a couple of candles.  
  
"You're really pure evil, Draco." The man said with a hint of pride in his voice. Draco snorted at that.  
  
"What can I say? I am a Malfoy."  
  
"I thought you would say that."  
  
"You actually think? Honestly, Adrian. I really don't know how you managed to get through Hogwarts."  
  
Adrian Pucey shrugged and blew a thin shred of smoke. "Ah, young Draco, there are plenty of things you don't know about me. While you spent your time tormenting people and fucking third years, I was mastering the dark arts, I just didn't care about any other subject."  
  
"With teachers like those."  
  
"Ah, yes. But I wouldn't let that old Werewolf keeping me from being ahead of the others. I liked to believe I was better than him." Adrian finished and flashed Draco an evil grin, rivaling his own.  
  
"But you weren't." Draco challenged.  
  
Adrian chew on his lower lip for a while before answering, "Maybe." He looked up at his old wall clock and rose to his feet "You better get going, Master doesn't like to be stood up." He thought for a moment before adding "Although I'd rather love to see you walking with a third leg."  
  
Draco chuckled softly and rose to his feet as well, "Wouldn't give you the satisfaction." He grinned at the elder wizard, former seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team who had been removed from his place because of Draco himself. Ironically, Adrian was one of Voldemort's most faithful servants and had helped Draco grow stronger and more cold-hearted through the years. Draco paid him back a lot of respect.  
  
*****  
  
Hermione sighed. Her new life wasn't as exiting as she would have thought. She had been wandering around Diagon Alley finding nothing to do but bumping into a thousand of people and shooting them deadly glances before walking away, she had scared off several children. And even an old man that was very afraid of people and always ran away when someone looked at him in the eye.  
  
She used to think that Diagon Alley was a lot of fun. No. she shook her head and shove her hands into her pockets. There was no remembering, she was what she had became, which if she stopped thinking was a complete nobody, and that only made her existence a lot more miserable. And when you think of it, being as miserable as she is now, that's a LOT of misery.  
  
Hermione decided to turn her brain off a little when she stopped and looked what was ahead of her.  
  
'I've been walking much longer than I thought' Hermione told herself as she stepped into the dark alley. Unlike Diagon Alley this one was a lot much deserted. Except for the few people who where wandering around but didn't seem to go somewhere.  
  
As she kept walking, Hermione noticed that every store had dark arts stuff on the windowsills, bones, blood, foul creatures, deadly-looking books. 'This must be Knockturn Alley' Hermione thought amused, she had heard from it quite sometime ago from Har. someone had told her about it.  
  
There was a pub by the end of the street, Hermione walked in and looked around. Pretty much a bunch of Dark Wizards peered at her from black cloaks across the place. There was a group of tiny-evil looking creatures by the stool, so she decided to just sit closely by the purple fire on the other side, where an old sad-looking witch wept over a bowl of what Hermione thought she saw were toes.  
  
A very young wizard walked over her and made a strange sound before asking her what she wanted to drink.  
  
"I.I'd like some pumpkin juice, please." She said rather unsure, his eyes pierced her like daggers, and then he seemed out of focus.  
  
"We don't have that" he replied in an extremely grave voice.  
  
"Oh, w-well, then, I'll have a glass of."  
  
"Vodka?"  
  
"Certainly"  
  
The wizard walked away and Hermione suddenly wished to be back in her room at Diagon Alley. Pumpkin juice.what was she thinking? Tough girls didn't order pumpkin juice! That was something the old Hermione used to do. she cringed at the thought.  
  
The wizard came back a while later and Hermione was shocked to see him smiling at her. "Here you go, have a nice day!" with that he turned around and his whole body shook violently. Hermione looked at him for a moment. Before he started walking again and then started yelling at the old, sad witch.  
  
Hermione looked into the clear liquid on her crystal glass. She had never drunk alcohol before. But what the hell, there was always a first time for everything, she thought as she emptied the contents of the glass and swallowed it all down.  
  
Shit! She thought dropping the empty glass on the table and grabbing her throat with both hands squeezing her eyes shut but feeling tears beginning to leak. That thing was really strong.  
  
After a couple of more glasses (Six, or maybe even eight), Hermione thought that it wasn't that bad after all, her throat got used to the burning sensation and she felt.good. Now she understood why her father hadn't allowed her to have a sip of his cognac when she was little.  
  
Now everything had become blurry, and she was suddenly very happy, and sad, and angry. She thought about staying a little while on the pub just so that the effects of the alcohol could pass a little before walking out and heading off to Diagon Alley it would be to dangerous to walk out at night. she could end up lost or even get transported to another part of the world by some kind of vortex.She was really drunk.  
  
By the time she had decided to go back. She buried her hand into her pockets to search for some galleons and dropped them to the table before noticing another small bag in her pocket. She took it out and examined its contents.  
  
Well, well, well! Floo powder. She looked at the fireplace beside her. It was her lucky day! (No wonder, she was still drunk).  
  
With a final glance back to the small pub, Hermione took a bit from the contents of the bag and threw it to the small fire, she stepped into the flames and very drunkenly said 'Leaky Cauldron!' before she started spinning and everything became blurry again.  
  
Just as the spinning slowed down a bit Hermione felt very sick and without further thoughts she vomited into some fireplace she passed by. 'Ew' she thought when she imagined the look on the people's faces when they'd see it.  
  
When she thought she had reached her destination, Hermione threw out her arms and fell over a very small fireplace. She stumbled forward and hit her head on the cold stone floor.  
  
A mayor headache attacked her as she brought her hand up to rub the sore spot on her head. Just as she opened her eyes, she noticed that she was in some kind of dungeon.  
  
The thing was. the Leaky Cauldron didn't have dungeons.  
  
***** 


End file.
